Memories
by WitchWithWords
Summary: "I missed you." "I missed you too George." How life was without him.


**AN: This is my first oneshot, and attempt at angst/hurt/comfort. Please Review, and I hope you enjoy the story.**

**Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form. That pleasure belongs to J. K. Rowling.**

Time stood still. All of the pain, and despair that had been surrounding him for the past few hours finally broke through his carefully constructed façade. Somewhere, he thought he heard the words screamed "No! No! No! No Fred no!" But after all, it could have been him.

He fell to his knees in anguish, his face unbelieving. "You've got to be joking Fred…. Please be joking…"

Others continued to fall as well, crimson blood staining the ancient halls of Hogwarts. But they did not matter, not anymore. He watched uncomprehendingly, as a pair of hands reached out, streaked with dirt and blood, to grab Fred.

"No!" he screamed, pleading. "Don't take him away from me!" Tears finally made their way on the frozen face of the only twin left. And George watched as his brother, his best friend was shoved in a suit of armor, lifeless, unmoving.

George was never able to create another Patronus again. How could he? When all of his happy memories had been with Fred, there was nothing left. Whenever George stopped to think about Fred, there would be another time that would intrude, all of his memories coming back…

"_George," Fred smirked._

"_Yes?" George answered, the same evil thought brewing in his abnormal brain._

"_Ready for the show? Umbridge is going to love it."_

"_I got the fireworks."_

"_And I have my wand."_

"_Ready Fred?"_

"_Ready George."_

"_I don't even know why she putt letters on our sweaters and not yours. We know we're called Gred and Forge."_

"_Seriously? We get all 1000 galleons?"_

"_Are you ready for the shop yet?" he asked with a humorous twinkle in his eyes._

"_Definitely. And I have just the perfect name for it."_

"_Welcome to 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!"_

"_I can't believe they love our shield hats!"_

"_I know! And that village girl really does fancy the muggle card tricks. Who knew that dad's obsession would come in handy some time?"_

"_Something like real magic…"_

"_You guys are never going to let him forgot this, are you?" Harry asked them bemusedly._

_They eyed their brother dancing unhappily with Professor McGonagall._

"_Never."_

"_Oy, Angelina, will you go to the ball with me?" His brother asked proudly._

_George eyed his brother happily, he finally got her, for once._

_That broom ride had to be one of the worst experiences that he had ever experienced. Now he was regretting never pranking Snape to brutally. Because now, with only one ear, he knew that he deserved it. _

_When he was rushed into the house, all he could think was… "Where's Fred? Is my brother alright?"_

_When Fred finally came in and saw him, George breathed a sigh of relief._

"_How you feeling Georgie?" He asked concernedly._

"_Saint-like…" he mumbled._

"_Saint-like?" Fred questioned._

"_Saint-like, I'm holey." The smallest hint of a smile graced George's bloodstained face._

"_Of all the Ear related humor in the world, you go for 'I'm Holey'? Fred chuckled._

"_Reckon I'm still better looking then you."_

But, that didn't matter to him. Nothing did, anymore. So many times, George would turn to talk to his brother, only to be met with the unfathomable silence that reminded him of that dreaded night in May. For most of the Wizarding World, The anniversary of Vol- You-Know-Who's death, was a joyous time. One for celebration. But for a few, it was the opposite.

O.o.O.o

_May 2__nd__, 1999_

The Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione had gathered for a special occasion. It was not one of frivolous intent, nor of happiness. It was of sorrow.

Harry cleared his throat nervously. "A year ago, this day, Voldemort was vanquished. But with a price. We lost many whom we loved. Remus. Tonks. Mad Eye. And… Fred. We can't deny that we miss them. We can't deny that fact, as much as we may try to do so. But they will always be with us. In here." he pointed to the left side of his chest.

George wasn't listening. Not at all. He couldn't listen to carefully chosen words of sorrow and remorse. Fred wouldn't have wanted that, on the anniversary of his death. He would have wanted a celebration, of his life. Full of Puking Pastilles, Canary Creams, and Fever Fudges as party favors. He would have wanted to hear the laughter of his previous friends from a story of humor, a previous escapade that only the Twins had known, shed light on for the first time. That was what Fred would have wanted. But it was too late. The family had dispersed, leaving only him and his thoughts, of his brother, of his friend.

O.o.O.o

_April 1__st__, 2000_

George scanned the horizon hesitantly, as if he would be reprimanded for being there. Heaps of grey stone seemed to be placed haphazardly in the field, as if it was a job rushed, a job of fear.

In one hand, he carried a small bag, and in the other, his wand. He walked silently for a while, occasionally checking the stones littered around him for the name. Even names that registered in his mind, even the slight shock of recognition couldn't deter him from his current task.

But when he did see that name. His heart stopped.

_Fred Weasley_

_Beloved Brother, and Twin _

"_When you laugh, it makes the world a brighter place."_

The tears George had been avoiding for so long finally burst through the dam he had created, bursting past his mental walls with the ease that came with letting go. He dropped to his knees, fumbling in his bag for the object of which he pondered about for so long.

In his grasp, George pulled out a small firework, placing it on top of the tombstone. He also, had, in his grasp, a delicious pumpkin pie, with cream. Splitting it in half, he smiled mournfully to himself, of the tradition that was famous among the two Weasley twins.

"Happy Birthday Freddie." he whispered, almost laughing, imaging the pie in his face was thrown by his brother himself.

Leaving the other half of the delicacy at the foot of the grave, he bit back a sob.

"Miss You."

O.o.O.o

_August 7__th__, 2000_

Smiling half heartedly, he took Angelina, no, his fiancé, by the hand.

"You still miss him, don't you."

It wasn't a question. In fact, George could never stop missing him. The way he knew George better then himself. The way they could finish each others sentences, almost effortlessly. The way they shared that twin connection, and the way they always knew what the other was thinking. It was like missing a part of yourself. George didn't feel whole anymore. But at least with Angelina, she understood.

"I miss him more then, well, anything. It just…hurts." he stated monotonously.

"I know it does. I miss him too."

"You just… You don't know how it feels. I feel like part of my soul has been ripped into two, and just thrown away, gone." he described.

"And it's not going to lessen. You just have to remember, you had him, he was there! It's better then life without him ever having been in it at all, right? He made an impact in your life.!"

"It's worse that way! Knowing that he was here, and now that he's not, he won't ever be, never again!" His voice was raised, his arms above his head, face flushed.

"Just listen." Angelina gently grabbed his hand, placing it on the left side of his chest, directly on his heart. "He may not be out there, but he's in there.. Always with you. He will never be gone." Her face softened.

George turned to her. "It just hurts…" he whispered.

"I know honey, I know."

O.o.O.o

_August 31__st__, 2000_

"In holy matrimony…" The priest droned on. But still, George was not as happy as he should have been, on one of the best days of his life. It was just one fact that haunted him. His Best Man, couldn't make it.

Fred.

He knew he wouldn't be able to come, at least, physically, but never before had George wished for his brother's company, for his presence as much as he did now. Even though he would probably be making snarky jokes about George's suit, or even just laughing about it to himself. But even that, George would do anything for.

He straightened up his posture. "Relax." he chastised himself. "You're getting married. It's a day to be happy." he thought to himself, when he swore he could hear another voice, through his bad, well actually gone ear.

"Relax bro! You're getting married for crying out loud! And by the way, I'm glad it was Angelina. If I couldn't have her, at least you do."

George stiffened, almost fainting out of pure shock. "Fred?" he breathed.

"You got it. Now don't ruin this day. She really does love you. Have fun!"

"But, FRED?" he screamed silently.

He swore he could feel the comforting presence of a familiar hand on his shoulder, a warmth that he had almost forgotten, then it vanished.

"Fred." he whispered, his eyes gleaming with tears unshed.

"We now pronounce you man and wife."

"You deserve it bro."

O.o.O.o

_May 1__st__, 2001_

"Can you move? Can you MOVE?" George screamed at the attendants. "My wife is having a BABY and you're telling me to CALM DOWN?"

"Please sir, we just need to-"

"What happens if I'm not there? And she has the baby and I won't see him? What happens then? Get me to the room!" he yelled with such force, that the attendant backed up quickly.

"Chill bro, Angelina is going to be fine. I can see it from up here."

"Fred?" George stopped screaming at once. "Are you really there?"

"Well I'm not Dumbledore if that's what you're wondering"

The dry sarcasm snapped George out of his suspicious thoughts at once. "Why are you back?"

"Because you don't do well in a crisis that's why. If you just calm down, and ask the attendants _nicely, _maybe, just maybe, she'll actually HELP you."

"Excuse me?" George said, calmly. "I'd like to be taken to the birth ward? My wife is in Labor. Angelina Weasley?"

"Er… Yes, Yes of course…" shocked by his sudden change of demeanor. "Er, this way?"

"Thank you."

The second he made it into the birth ward, however, he completely lost his cool.

"Angelina! Where are you? Where is my wife?" he yelled frantically, before finally sighting her, with a bundle in her arms.

"You want to meet your son?" she asked gently.

Slowly and carefully, George reached for the blue blankets, until he caught a whisp of hair, red as the flames of a fire. And when he saw George, the baby immediately laughed.

"What's his name?" Angelina asked quietly.

He smiled. "Fred."

O.o.O.o

_January 5__th__, 2005_

"Daddy? Why are there two of you in the picture?" a four year old, with bright red hair, looked at his father, confused.

He was observing a moving picture of a younger George, and someone was standing beside him, almost identical to him.

"That's Fred. Your Uncle." George eyed his humorously, just letting a hint of a smile show as their picture selves started hitting each other.

"But I'm Fred!" the toddler protested.

"No, this is a different Fred. He was my brother." George explained gently.

"Was?" Fred's adorable face nearly broke his heart. Of course "was" but what was George supposed to tell his son? The fact that war can take loved ones away from you? That life didn't always turn out the way you wanted it to? He was too young, too innocent. He didn't even know of that strange and mystical realm, Death. He wasn't ready. Nobody ever could, truly be ready. George knew that.

"It's ok. I'll help you. Just tell him." the soft voice resounded in his skull.

"Fred?" tears pricked George's eyes at the chance of another talk with his old brother.

"Yes it's me, you bimbo. I thought you'd be used to it by now. Just, tell him I'm gone. When he's older, I'll help you through it."

"He's gone sweetie. He's not here anymore. George sighed.

"When will I get to meet him?" the curious toddler inquired.

He hesitated. "When your time comes Freddie. When your time comes."

O.o.O.o

_September 1__st__, 2011_

"I can't believe my little boy is going to Hogwarts!" shrieked Angelina to her husband.

They observed Fred, now 11 and tall, starting to talk to some of the other kids starting school as well.

"I bet he'll be a Gryffindor." she sniffed.

"Just like us." George smiled back at his wife.

"He looks like him, you know. He has his eyes. But your hair. Even though they're almost the same anyway." she giggled to herself.

"Yah…" George smiled softly.

"Hey, who's that? Is that Katie Bell's daughter?" asked Angelina curiously. "She looks like…"

"She looks just like you when you were 11." George viewed in awe. "And is she…?"

"It looks just like me and Fred were, when we met. I think you were still talking to Katie." As Fred brought out one of "Wizards Weasley Wheezes" products, showing them off to the fascinated girl, Angelina started to laugh.

"Merlin! It's like a window to the past!"

But George couldn't help but think somberly "It's Fred. But, it's not. Its just like… But it can't. No."

"He really does look just like him. I wasn't joking, you know."

"I know. But he always did love a good joke."

O.o.O.o

_May 31__st__, 2019_

" and Fred Weasley. Congratulations Hogwarts Graduates!"

George had never felt as much pride as he did then for anyone in his entire life. It was his boy, his son, his joy in life. After 7 long years of studying and learning, he had graduated! Just like his Uncles and aunts before him, (but come to think of it, He and Fred the 1st had never actually graduated Hogwarts. More like an angry rampage against a psychotic teacher, then a dramatic exit, but anyway) and he couldn't be more proud.

Angelina stood beside him, hastily wiping her eyes with a conjured tissue, the tears already making their way down her beautiful face.

"I'm proud of him too. After all, at least my namesake graduated." the soft voice resounded in his head once again, bringing a sad smile to the twins face.

"Hey Fred… Can you believe it? My little you is all grown up. I was thinking about sharing the business with him."

"As long as he has a sense of humor. I wouldn't be able to stand it if he had as much humor as Professor Binns. That old ghost nearly bored the life out of me."

George sucked in a small breath from the casual mention of his twins death.

"Obviously not what I meant, dear Georgie. How's the ear holding up? I hope you're still Holey! Well, considering I'm talking to you, I suppose you are."

George chuckled softly at the rare display of the Weasley humor. "I'm Saint-Like, don't you know it?"

"That's the spirit George! That's the first joke I've heard in forever! Sure, Dumbledore is crazy and all, but all of his attempted jokes include Lemon Drops or 'What did the Deluminator say to the Squib?' I honestly can't take it anymore."

And with that, George burst out laughing, right in the middle of graduation, much to the curiosity of the fellow patrons.

"I miss you." he whispered to himself. "But shut it so I can stop making a fool of myself, and so we can enjoy your _nephews _graduation in peace."

"As you wish, your Holiness."

O.o.O.o

Many years had gone by. Some in happiness, some in tears, sorrow, and strife. But always, there was always Fred, up there, to get George through it. Hardships happened. When his parents died, it was all he could do not to fall apart. But Fred helped him through, assuring them of their safety, bestowing words of kindness into his saddened mind. But, like all good things draw to an end, so does life.

_April 20__th__, 2085_

He felt warmth. The comfort, of being home, being with family. He wasn't down there, with his son, and his grand-kids. But he was here. And he was ready to say goodbye. And hello.

Before he knew it, he was embracing Fred in his arms, weeping tears of joy. Him, no longer the aged man he was, but the 19 year old he once was, the last age he had been with his brother. The end to the best 19 years of his life.

"I missed you."

"Just shut it and hug me bro."

**Authors Note:**

**This was the first story I've written since I took down my old ones, so I hope you enjoyed it. Lets just say it was emotionally difficult for me to write this story. I planned on writing other parts of George's life without Fred, like his sons wedding, and Grandkids and such, but I felt that I was dragging the story on. So Review, and I hoped you like it.**

**P.S. I just want to say that I wrote this over the span of three days, at around midnight, because I have discovered somehow, my creative juices flow better at night. Let that be noted for any screw-ups you read. Thanks. ****J**

**-Rebecca**


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